*This post really doesn’t make any sense, and I probably shouldn’t have posted it, but my poor little brain is in a funny place. So let’s pretend it’s Topless Tuesday, Random Wednesday or No-Pants Thursday and you can click all the links then it will all make sense.*
I missed a post for you on Monday.
It was Money Monday and I know you were just waiting with baited breath to hear what sort of earth shattering revelations I had for you.
Sorry to disappoint…. but it’s 2012, get used to it. I’m sure there will be many more disappointments to come this year.
But guess what….
You aren’t perfect, and you never will be, so stop trying. And. Just. Live.
Many of the most powerful people in the world came from poverty, and yet, sometimes I wonder…
Are they really happy? Are they still doing the things they love?
I hope so.
Then, I read a story about this lady, who hasn’t spent a single dime in over 16 years… and I think… is it possible?
She looks really happy.
And my rational mind swims furiously like a turtle in a hurricane about this question of money and value and people and love and E=MC2 ….
Enter Einstein (at stage right):
So let me break it down…. here are my resolutions (you can use them in case you didn’t get around to making any) in 2012:
*Less water, more drinks with umbrella’s
*More massages and hot tubs and sunshine.
*Toe Socks in every color and pattern
*A first big success
*A first big failure
*More hot dogs and mac & cheese (what? they are good and make me furiously happy.)
*More Change (the jingly stuff, and the life stuff)
*More ball-gowns in cemetery’s just because it makes me happy.
*oh, and money.
*Money that feels good to make.
*Money that feels good to make because you are doing something which makes you furiously happy.
*Money that feels so good to make, you don’t even feel slightly guilty about impulsive purchasing that (________________) because it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen and you pretty much want to make love on top of it every single moment of every single day. Followed by heavy cigar smoking. Obviously.
Oh… and…. Caring.
Caring about the goodness and beauty and amazingness that makes up each person. Caring about the strength of the human condition in a way like only the Care Bears could.
Now you can return to your regularly scheduled life.
*My sister was a huge fan of the Care Bears when she was little. Now with an antenna on her head, she could almost double as a Tele-Tubby. Anyway, she is in Afghanistan with the National Guard playing GI Joe. I think I might get her a stuffed Care Bear and send it to her, or maybe a GI Joe, or maybe a Tele-Tubby. Shit… I’ll just send her all three… This is her…*
p.p.s. I think Rick Perry is a Douche-Canoe. He has obviously never had to live through the stress of sending a brother/son/cousin/loved-one halfway around the world, into war, for a ridiculous reason.
(putting soap-box away and going back to my happy place)